


North Star

by PastelLimes



Category: LISA (Video Games)
Genre: Buddy cries, Buddy cries some more, Buddy is accustomed to pain, I wrote this in twenty minutes in the back of my Spanish class it's that type of bad, LISA SPOILERS, LISA THE JOYFUL SPOILERS, LISA THE PAINFUL SPOILERS, Like numb, Mentions of Death, No Context, Oneshot, Ouch, Short Story, basic astrology, i hate this, in a bad way, mentions of Birth, why am I doing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 04:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9863753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelLimes/pseuds/PastelLimes
Summary: Buddy looks up at the stars and her family.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a load of BS I wrote in like twenty minutes just to experiment writing with Buddy. Also the LISA series needs more stuff in it...

Deep brown eyes, sharp almonds, opened to take in a bleary night sky, stars shimmering in their places, casting tiny rays of light next to the enormous moon, although just a sliver. Pale pink lips were slightly parted as the only female took in the sky, all pain gone numb as her mind focused on the brightest star of them all. Her father...no...Brad told that was the North Star, and that you’d always find your way home if you followed it. Buddy never believed in such dumb myths that parents told their young, caged in little girls to make them feel safe. 

Exhaling, Buddy watched her breath swarm into a misty cloud of hot air and drift away. The chill of Olathe’s extreme winter air broke through her layers of her ponchos and tight shirts. She sat up, her scarred palms brushing against the grit of the dusty ground, the sting of tiny rocks poking the edges of tiny cuts no longer painful to her. Shifting to sit up entirely, Buddy craned her neck to look back up at the stars. She bit the inside of her cheeks, gnawing at the tender flesh that had been seared by strong alcohol and bland meats, lacking the salt or juicy savoring she had dreamt of. 

Buddy stood, her blade screeching against the ground from where it hung in its sheath at her waist. Black hair wisped in and out of her face as a gentle, arid smelling breeze fluttered by, carrying with it the scent of rot and firebombs. Popping her knuckles, Buddy retreated to her tent and makeshift home she’d made out of a jagged cliff side, drapery and cloaks made curtains of privacy and from the sunlight that blazed down during the day. 

The curtains were nice, but couldn’t keep warmth in, which was a true shame. Buddy crawled in, ducking her head. Her son, whom she hadn’t cared to name, sat alone, playing with the jar lids she provided for him, making sure they weren’t too bloodied. 

Buddy firmly stroked her son’s head in the best motherly way that she could. She sat down, popping open a canteen of long-expired tea. Her body was accustomed to it, however. If she could survive the apocalypse, men, killing her father and brother, and giving birth, she could handle some foul tea.

She made her son dinner, scavenged greens that grew from crevices boiled in water with rum for flavor. She split up some meat and the two shared dinner, each taking turns sipping from the one bottle of soft soda they had. 

Putting her son to bed, Buddy returned to her post outside of her house. She sat on a ledge that overlooked the bloodied warlord territory below. Another breeze flew by, ruffling her greasy, stringy black hair and dryly colored ponchos. Buddy closed her eyes, her bad one still slightly open from being swollen and puckered with pink and red scars. Raising her head, Buddy looked back up at the stars. And before she could stop them, she cried. She remembered the nights she spent with Brad, when he’d take he on walks and show her the glimmering stars and the wispy clouds tained a strange color by radiation. The way Brad spoke about the stars, loving and explaining like any parent should speak to their six year old daughter, the only daughter, the only female on the planet, or at least in Olathe. 

Hot, salty tears poured down her cheeks, now red and flushed. Buddy hated letting her guard down like this, she hated having to cry because it only showed how alone she was, how sad and broken she had become. She murdered the only family she had, or would have had…

Buddy killed Dustin, let him fall to his death when he told her such a thing because there was no forgiveness left in her to give. Buddy destroyed Brad’s life, letting him chase her around Olathe, and when he approached her with nothing but love and concern, she was blinded by hate. Buddy mentally tortured Buzzo by barely resembling the woman he had loved and did love, she scowled and turned her nose down on him for the things he never wanted to do. Buddy watched her biological father plummet into the pits of Hell without getting any answers. 

Buddy cried, and she huddled under the celestial stares of the stars. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hate THIS :D 
> 
> I HATE BUDDY TOO BUT I LOVE WRITING HER/DRAWING HER  
> she did nothing (kinda) wrong


End file.
